PaperMache Heart
by xCrushx
Summary: Omi POV on his relationship with a certain Schwartz boy (not Nagi!) and musing about how everyone would react...Kinda dark....Yaoi....


PaperMache Heart

By Crush

Author's Note/Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Weiss (sadly). Yaoi, FarfiexOmi… Oh dear God, Shy is going to kill me… Omi POV…..I don't really know what to say, I'm sick, confused and I don't even remember what I did ten minutes ago….

~PaperMache Heart~

I wonder what Aya would say if he knew. He'd probably say nothing, stare down at me, betrayed. As he should feel. I am Weiss am I not? He would tell me to go, tell me to never come back. Tell me that I am no longer welcome and if he saw me again he would kill me. He'd look at me with scorn, with disgust. He'd look at me as though I had just taken a gun out and told him to give me everything he worked for. Like I had just shred his trust into tiny little pieces and spit on it repeatedly.

I don't think Youji would quite understand. He'd probably yell. Wreak havoc over the house and then go get drunk. He'd call me a fag. He'd call me a traitor. He'd tell me to leave now and never come back. He wouldn't touch me, he'd back away from me, as if liking men were a disease and if he touched me, I would give it to him. He'd pull a cigarette out and tell me he didn't ever want to look at me again. He refused to be associated with a gay. He would tell me that he was sorry and that he would miss me but he would never be able to look at me again.

Ken would wrap his arms around me and cry. He would wonder if it was his fault, or if it was someone else's. The thing is though, I don't think Ken would ever quite know who to blame. Me or my psychotic lover. Ken would look at me sadly, run a hand through his hair and tell me that he would help me pack. Even he wouldn't want me to stay there. Not anymore. I wouldn't be allowed to stay with them, he would smile sadly and give me all the money he had. He would ruffle my hair and help me out the back door in the middle of the night.

I don't know why none of them would accept it. It's not something I'm proud of, granted. But it's who I am. I think they would know then that I had made my choice. If I told them then I was betraying them and I wouldn't give him up for them. Never. If they were to find out on their own then they would atleast ask me. But they aren't stupid. Just blind. Hell, maybe they do know. Maybe none of them want to believe that out of them all I am the one sleeping with the enemy.

Youji had a chance to do it, when he realized that Asuka had lived. When he realized she was Neu. When the choice came down to it, he knew he couldn't do it. He couldn't betray us, not even for the one he loved. She meant so much to him, she held his heart in the palm of her hand. She still does wherever she is now. And I don't think Asuka would give him up, you could see it in her eyes when they fought. She misses him. 

When he met Yuriko Ken had the option to get out. To leave then and never come back. He couldn't do it. I think she made him realize how stained his hands are. He could've gone with her, amended his sins in Australia. But that's when Ken decided his job here meant more than the love of his life ever could. He decided he needed to do this more than he needed to be with her. She offered him the one thing in the world we all wanted and he turned her down. Ken's stronger than we all give him credit for.

I don't think Aya has ever been in love, not really. His sister has his heart, his thoughts, and his protection. She lies silently begging for him to stay by her side, begging him to not forget, to not give up. She's the one thing he would betray us for. He would give up his own life if it meant she would see one sunrise before she died. But she won't. He knows this now. He knows she's not going to make it. And it's killing him, slowly, second by second.

Maybe Aya would understand. He knows what it's like to care so much and have so little given back. Farfie doesn't understand love, emotion or anything of the sort. He just kind of knows. He reaches out to me when I cry, holds me close to his chest and tells me stories he remembered from when he was younger. Those are the good days.

There are others, though. Where we sit in and uncomfortable silence listening to the clock tick away at out time. There are times where he brings his knives, where he hurts me. There are times when he refuses to touch me. Where he sits as far away from me as possible, refusing to let me in, even for a second. 

The times I remember the most are those ones. 

I can vaguely remember times sitting in his arms while he showed me his knife collection, or times when he told me about each and everyone of his scars while I ran my hands over them. I can recall times where he told me that he felt a distinct longing inside him while he waited for me. And times where he told me that I made him feel something and he didn't know what it was.

They filled me with such hope, to hear those words. I know now it was a false hope. A little late, don't you think? But there's nothing I can do. He won me over with those words. I fell for him the moment he spoke them. He's careful around me. He knows that I am not happy, that I am not strong and that I stopped caring a long time ago. 

He knows how to break me. And he knows how to glue me back together. Its as though my heart is made of papermache or something. Something easily broken. Something a little glue can fix time and time again. He knows when to reach for me and he knows when I don't want him too. He knows what every thought that runs through my mind just by looking into my eyes. He knows what I feel because that's how he feels. He can only feel what I feel.

Aya would never understand. He'd know what I mean, but he would never understand or accept this. If anything, he would be disgusted.

Youji would tell me to leave; he'd tell me that he didn't want to ever see me again. He would call me something hurtful and he would try to cut me as deep as I cut him. 

Ken would cry. Ken would blame. And Ken would try to help the only way he could, by getting me out of there. 

I know Farf would never fully be with me, he never could be. He's so completely different from me. That's why he's with me. I'm so completely different from him that he likes it. I'm everything he isn't. I'm his innocent. And he likes it that way, he likes to hurt me, to drive me to my darkside. He won't want me anymore when I lose my innocent side. 

Maybe I should tell them; maybe I should get away. Maybe I should leave now and never come back. Farfie wouldn't come with me. Why would he? I mean nothing to him. I'm just some child he manipulated. Maybe I should just go and not even tell him. No. I couldn't do that, not when I'm in this deep. 

Dragged from my thoughts, I hear a gentle tap on the window. I open the window and let him in, his one eye glancing me up and down warily while he sits on my bed, "Omi." He whispers, "Omi, Brad knows."

I stare at him, unaccustomed to what he means, "He wants to kill us, Omi." I don't speak, I don't move. I can't breathe, think, feel, judge, move, blink. I'm immobile, "I don't know how he found out, Omi. But he's coming for us."

He reaches a soft scarred arm out and runs a hand down my face, "We have two choices, Omi. We can stay and die. Or we can go. I don't know where, I don't know how much time we have."

I bring my hand up to his and let him grab it. I still don't speak, what could I say? I'm not afraid, just shocked, "Please, say something."

I meet his amber eye with my own; he looks almost vulnerable. Schwartz had discovered his only weakness and now he was unsure. He didn't understand his emotions and they were hitting him like a tidal wave. I step closer to him, regaining my composure. I let his hand go in order to run my own across his face, tracing each scar with my finger, "What are you doing?" he asks after this goes on for a few minutes.

"I'm remembering." I say simply, "Everything you ever told me."

"What are we going to do?" He whispers with a heavy accent, "I don't like this, child. I feel as if he's helping God."

"That's because he is, Farf. He is." I lean against his body and let him take me in, he wraps his arms around my waist and whispers, "I don't know what to do."

"You don't have too." I reply.

"What should we do?" His voice is starting to become panicked. Like he's afraid of something. Impossible. This is Farfello. He can't feel pain and he sure as hell isnt afraid of anything.

"Let them come," I capture his mouth with my own.

_Let them come._

~End


End file.
